


Salt Ring Around the Slug

by DamnItWrongName



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Michael Sheen - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Michael Sheen - Freeform, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other, RPF, Slugts - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 20:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19384054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamnItWrongName/pseuds/DamnItWrongName
Summary: You've been arrested and meet somone





	Salt Ring Around the Slug

the van pulled to a stop, you and the other inmates get out and walk across the road in a line like primary school children on a school trip. but this wasn’t the place for hand holding. it was a humid day, 24 **°** c to be exact. there was a 63% chance precipitation but that didn’t matter any more. you look across the yard, people playing basketball, gambling and smoking smuggled cigarettes. you drag your eyes away from the school next door you wonder how 11 year olds learnt to play poker in the first place.

the guards heard you in. give you a cheeky stop search and give you your clothes. this ain’t america so thank god you could still flex your yeezys. the guards take you to your assigned room. again unlike America you get your own room with a lil en-suite. it reminded you uni. in a place where time drags out it moved quickly, lunch time was now. just like school there were separated groups of people. but instead of emo, popular and nerds, there were arsonists, murderers and nonces. you’re nervous, you don’t exactly fit in here. stealing a birthday card from a morrison’s self service machine because it practically weighed nothing was a fault in the system. the fact that the guilt consumed you and you began to panic as you drive home and knocked that cyclist down had nothing to do with it.

you spot a table, only one person on it. what a touch, but it was too good to be true. all orbs are on you as you strut towards the table, even the people who still had their backs to you were looking. you sit down directly in front of the man as a pure power move.

“hi can i sit here?” you ask like a new kid in year 9.

“the seats are free in here but the people are not.” the man replies in a ominous welsh voice

“cheers babe” you say as you drop that ass down

“i’m michael sheen, but you can call me michael sheen. do you wanna know why i’m here?” michael sheen said.

“ok” you say kinda listening kinda not. you know like when you’re watching tv and your mum says something and you agree but when she gets back you forgot to do it. wait i wasn’t listening what?

“i was moving sheep across the country” michael sheen said

“yeah and what?” that doesn’t sound too bad you think

“well in wales that’s technically sex trafficking. now i’m here serving life”

you look at michael sheen, he looks like this

“the only thing you're serving is looks, hun”


End file.
